Lullaby in Brooklyn
by hedgehogger
Summary: When Buster Moon announces to his performers that they have earned the opportunity to visit New York, everyone is ready to hop on the next plane to the Big Apple. All except two animals. Will the young duo find themselves trapped by their pasts? Or will they overcome their differences by finding something stronger than heartache...something in each other?
1. Chapter 1: Hiraeth

Ash propped her leather boots up against the side of the practice room glass, tired from another day's rehearsal. She breathed a sigh of relief, as she slid against the glass, allowing herself to sink onto the cool floor.

Ever since the Moon Theatre's last performance (or what was left of it), Ash had been losing more and more sleep. Overtime guitar practices had left her with calloused and aching hands, and sometimes she wouldn't return home until half-past twelve, what with balancing a side job at the downtown record store and all.

And her home.

Ash felt her eyes drooping, her stomach churning into a familiar knot.

Each time Ash returned to her apartment, it was so _quiet._ She had forgotten how noisy Lance was: each night it was either late night television, or a jam session that would always earn them a knock on the door from aggravated neighbors.

Now, all the lights were turned off. The nostalgic scent of pizza and dip had disappeared.

She was alone. Alone in an empty, quiet home.

Feeling herself on the verge of another breakdown, she crawled over to wear her purse was hanging, tugging the zipper open. Quickly, she clutched what she was looking for.

' _My dearest Ash,'_ read the mixtape. ' _I hope you will find more use in this then you're mother did-don't tell her I said that. Anyway...keep your chin up! I know someday you'll do amazing things._

' _Your biggest fan,_

 _Dad.'_

Ash stifled a sniffle, dragging her heavy feet back over towards her high boots. Plugging in the nearby stereo, she clicked the tape in, rewinding the cassette to exactly where she remembered. It felt like the hundredth time.

She pushed play without hesitation, hoisting her Stratocaster over her head.

' _Please Ash, I didn't mean any of those things before.'_

The drum intro rang out against the thin walls of the rehearsal room.

' _Dammit, Ash, Becky means_ nothing _to me now. I only want you!'_

 _Lies_ , thought Ash bitterly. _Everything you said. Everything you did. All_ lies _._

And then, her tears disappeared. The past washed away for a split second.

She was lost in the music. In her music.

 _Sing it out, boy, you've got to see what tomorrow brings._

 _Sing it out, girl, you've got to be what tomorrow needs._

 _For every time that they want to count you out, use your voice_

 _every single time you open up your mouth._

Ash strummed the strings so harshly, she thought she would split the neck in half. Closing her eyes, she spun around on the wooden floor, hearing her raspy voice match with the beat of the stereo.

 _Sing it for the boys, sing it for the girls._

 _Every time that you lose it sing it for the world._

 _Sing it from the heart, sing it till you're nuts._

 _Sing it out for the ones that'll hate your guts._

 _Sing it for the deaf, sing it for the blind._

 _Sing about everyone that you left behind._

 _Sing it for the world._

 _Sing it for the world._

She continued around the square room, bobbing her head up and down. If it weren't for reality, which crept slowly up in the back of her mind, Ash told herself she could probably do this forever.

 _I don't need Lance_. She continued onto the next verse. _I don't need anybody. I just...I just need me!_

She continued throughout her beloved song, her fingers throbbing.

 _Got to see what tomorrow brings._

 _Sing it for the world, sing it for the world._

 _Girl, you've got to be what tomorrow needs._

 _Sing it for the world, sing it for the world._

Panting, Ash felt a smile curl on her face. Giddy, she whipped around, ready to strike a finale pose, when she found herself staring at a pair of black converse. Dread pulsed through her veins.

 _Crap, I left the door open._

Angrily, she unhooked her guitar strap, glancing up to find golden eyes staring down at her curiously.

"Wow," the teenage gorilla began. "That...that was brilliant."

Taken aback, Ash turned towards him, feeling her blood rush to her face.

"Y-you think so, huh?" She shuffled over to switch off the stereo before any other songs were revealed that evening. How long had he been standing there?

Johnny nodded, curiously spotting the tape. "I—err—um...Mr. Moon wants us all to head back on stage. Says he's got something important to announce."

Finding her instrument case, Ash willingly opened the straps, her hands stinging.

"Thanks, Johnny," she replied, still deep in thought. "I'll be right...there." But when she gazed back over towards the door frame, the Cockney-accented gorilla was gone.

 _Strange…_

She blinked and quickly gathered her case, boots, and purse, bustling around the corner and through backstage. She found the others sprawled across the stage, almost as tired-looking as she probably did.

Mr. Moon spotted her out of the corner of his eye, not lifting his scrawling pencil from his clipboard.

"Ah, there's our little rockette. Just in time, too."

Ash padded across newly polished floor, the scent of lemon lingering throughout the Moon Theatre. She found a spot between Rosita and Meena, both who gave her a small smile. As she crossed her legs, slipping her boots back on, she heard the hushed tapping of fingers against the wooden floor. Shifting her head slightly, she glimpsed downward to see a large hand, moving across the floorboards like scales on a piano.

Ash briefly looked up at Johnny, watching him stare off into the empty seats of the theatre. He must have sensed her gaze, before he turned to meet her eyes. She quickly whipped around, wondering if he was still looking at the back of her quills.

 _He's probably still judging me over my escapade earlier._ She flushed, still mulling over being caught in the act of...of what? Being herself?

She felt a hand rest on her shoulder, drawing her out of her disquietness.

"Are you okay, dear?" asked Rosita, watching her carefully.

"Oh, yeah," breathed Ash, turning to newest mother-figure. She appreciated Rosita's patience and her level of consideration...something she which Lance had more of.

"Thanks, Rosita."

"Anytime."

Mr. Moon cleared his throat, and the stage quieted of its previous whispers and exchanges of laughter.

"Alrighty, another great practice today, everyone! Gotta keep those pipes in tip-top shape for our next performance."

"Yeah, if only the boss would tell us what exactly the next performance is." murmured Mike, weaving his way throughout the number of legs spread across the performance stage.

Mr. Moon either ignored him or was completely oblivious; nevertheless, he continued with his spiel.

"Now, throughout the past months, I know it's been a struggle, a real endeavor, re-building this theatre and its devoted fans."

There was a collective wave of agreement. Ash rested her head on her cheek.

 _Not to mention the struggle of finding your boyfriend cheating and being isolated for weeks on end_.

"Which is why," Mr. Moon continued. "I am treating you all for your impressive, and greatly appreciated, hard work!"

The theatre was dead silent, before Gunter let out a loud, "Heiliger strohsack*!"

"Ooh, what is it Mr. Moon?" asked Meena, quickly forgetting her timidness. "I mean...if you don't mind me asking."

"I'm glad you asked, Meena. Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together, because one week from today you will all be setting sail for the Big Apple!"

The Moon Theatre erupted into a roar of cheering, Gunter nearly passing out onto Rosita, while Meena scooped Ash up into a hug.

"Can you believe it, Ash? New York City!"

"I know," Ash breathed, feeling her body constrict under the embrace of the Indian elephant. "It's...it's hard to believe." Meena released her, muttering a series of apologies.

She wasn't lying; all her life Ash had been confined to the streets of California, living under a roof with her older brothers, and then finding her own place...now minus Lance.

 _Why,_ she thought, clenching her fists. _Why do I keep_ thinking _about him? It's been nearly a month!_ She wanted to scream.

Mixed emotions flooding through her system, Ash quickly scooped up her purse, waving goodbye to the others as she leapt down the theatre stairs. She, in that very moment, despised herself, for smiling so openly and pretending to share in their joy. Did she think traveling over two-thousand miles would solve her problems back home? Why couldn't she just let things go?

The fuming, yet saddened porcupine stormed up towards the double doors, barely hearing Mr. Moon prattling on about the following Saturday ("Be here at four sharp; our flight leaves at six!").

She had barely stepped outside, when she felt the tears trickling down her cheeks.

 _God, what is wrong with me?_ Hurt and confused, Ash found the nearest trash bin, kicking it with all her might. Nope, still nothing had changed. Except the newly growing ache in her toes.

It was as she went limping off to the bus stop that she heard the noise again.

 _Tip-tap, tip tip-tap, tip…_

Ash rounded the corner, unsurprised to find Johnny slouched at a picnic table.

He was drumming against the tabletop, fixated on the intersection catty corner to the theatre.

Ash nearly turned around, still feeling her eyes full with tears. She didn't think she'd be able to handle any interaction at this time, especially with a soft-spoken gorilla.

It would only make her want to cry more.

Finding the will to move her feet, Ash quickly made for the next block, but was horrified to hear a quiet,

"Ash? Are you okay?"

She clenched her fists, whipping around to face Johnny.

"As if you should be the one asking _me._ What's your problem?"

Ash watched as the gorilla's eyes widened, and he ducked his head, avoiding her glower. Guilt settled as soon as the words slipped out.

"Wait, Johnny," she started, cautiously walking to where he was seated. "I'm sorry, I—I didn't mean to say that."

She slid her purse across the bench, sitting across from him. Ash suddenly felt self-conscious, and was thankful when she realized she had stopped crying.

"No, you're right." Johnny raise his eyes to her, resuming his tapping. "I am upset."

 _Wow, he's much more honest than me._

Unsure what to do, Ash blurred out the first thing that came to mind.

"Do you...do you want to talk about it?

She glimpsed down at his large hands, as they became still. Searching his face, Ash felt a strange ache at the pit of her stomach. This was the first time the two had actually talked outside of rehearsals.

After what seemed like hours, the young gorilla finally opened his mouth, surprising Ash even further.

"I can't go to New York."

* * *

 ***Holy moly!**

 **Thank you all for reading!**

 **(Disclaimer: I do not own the rights of Sing 2016 or 'Sing.' All rights go towards Illumination Entertainment and My Chemical Romance.)**


	2. Chapter 2: Sonder

Ash stared at him. She misheard him, she must have.

"What?"

"I can't go to New York City."

Ash felt her stomach tighten, the same sensation she recalled when she found Lance with... _her._

"I don't...I don't understand. Why not?"

Johnny sighed. "Look, it's nothing against you or anyone else. It's just...I don't think it will work out."

Ash let out a huff of impatience, swiping her purse from the bench. "Fine," she started, stomping off to the bus stop. "Don't tell...me…" Ash trailed off. She stopped in her tracks and turned up to the sky.

It was beginning to snow.

Wait, it was _snowing._

Ash marveled at the soft flurries falling from the clouds; downtown hardly ever saw snow, even in the coldest months.

She continued to watch the spectacle fluttering around, soon descending on Johnny's head. He, too, gaped in awe at the snowflakes swirling through the air. For what seemed like the first time in weeks, Ash let out a soft giggle, feeling the fluttering of the cold snow pillow onto her quills.

"Is it...because of...Christmastime?" Ash heard herself ask faintly, cursing herself for continuing to pry. Though the crew was set to leave for the Big Apple the following week, it was also four days after December 25th.

A time when most people would be celebrating with their families.

 _Oh my God. He doesn't have a family._

Had they really been swept up in the joyous prospect of traveling with each other that they had forgotten that Christmas was around the corner? And it was no secret around the Moon Theatre that Johnny had come from a rough 'n tough family, who no sooner ended up in prison with only the young gorilla to blame himself.

Ash felt as though she were choking on her tongue. Here she was, prattling on about her scum of an ex-boyfriend, and Johnny didn't even have a soul to speak to at home.

She studied his face, knowing she was right on the dot.

The mountain gorilla ran a hand through his spiked hair, trying to look at anything but the porcupine now beside him.

"Ash, I don't—I'm not sure…" He ran another hand above his forehead, exhaling.

"Hey," She awkwardly placed a small hand on his leather sleeve. _Why am I still here?_

"It's okay if you aren't comfortable talking about it."

That made Johnny crinkle his nose. "No...I should be able to talk about it. It's not like it's...no, it's reality." he finished, looking at her. Her heart sunk as sadness pooled in his eyes.

"I'm not sure how long my dad has in the slams." He hesitated. "Not to mention he's already escaped once. I think...I think it might be nearly ten years."

Johnny paused again, and Ash sat soberly, watching him click his fingers against the table again. The silence continued on before he spoke again.

"New York is bloody amazing, but...I don't think it's what I need right now. Probably can't afford it, either."

Ash secretly wondered exactly how much of the trip would be sponsored by Mr. Moon.

"Oh, Johnny," began Ash, disquieted towards both the young gorilla and her own selfishness.

He flinched, pulling his arm slightly out of her reach. I don't—I don't need your sympathy."

Immediately, Ash felt her stomach twist again. What was she doing wrong? Was she trying to convince him to leave? As if a switch had been flicked on, Ash thought back to when Johnny was up on stage at the Moon Theatre's outdoor performance, plunking away on the piano to Elton John. The lights streaming from above, the cheers of the crowd, and the adrenaline of the beat; isn't that what kept him going?

What if...he _needed_ this trip?

The wind began picking up, a bitter breeze rustling through her quills. She detested this newly found cold almost as much as much as Mr. Moon's timing.

"Hey, you aren't the only one, okay?" hissed Ash, plopping next to him. "I'm living off of minimal gigs and my part-timer. Rosita has to find a sitter for her upteen-million kids. Mike is probably still in debt. Even Gunter was complaining about the price of leotards the other day."

She took a deep breath, continuing her rousing—and what felt like a highly unnecessary—rant.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is we are all in the same boat. We go as a crew. I...we can't just leave you behind."

 _Like how Lance left me._

The words were out of her mouth before she could even think. "Look, if you go, if it means that much to you, I'll pay for all your expenses."

 _Huh?_

Johnny stared at her in astonishment. For a brief moment, Ash thought he would chew her out as well, but she felt her jaw drop when he burst out laughing.

"W-what? I'm not kidding around." She flushed.

"You're alright, Ash. You really want me to go that badly?"

"I never said that."

Johnny grinned, nearly startling Ash. She wondered if it was possible to drown in falling snow.

"Hey, you said it yourself, you're not joshing me. Right, you've got yourself a deal.

"Wait, just like that?"

 _Why did I say that, why did I say that,_ repeated Ash internally. _This is going to end very badly._

Dizzy and cheeks burning, she held out her hand to meet Johnny's. The two shook, Ash's small paw engulfed by Johnny's large, yet strangely warm, palm.

"Fine." She spit a few snowflakes out of her mouth. "Guess I better go get started then."

* * *

The sound of the moaning bus brakes jolted Ash awake, her face squashed up against the side of the frost window.

The dread of her prior agreement rushed to her head and she clutched her midriff.

 _Of all the people in the world, who would have guessed that innocent, little Johnny could be so_ conniving?

Ash mentally patted herself on the back, however; she could have handled the situation much worse, considering Johnny's background.

 _No,_ she thought, begrudgingly. _There's no point in stooping to a lower level. What's done is done._

She growled, kicking the seat in front of her, while simultaneously alarming an old tortoise in the next row over who was wearing too much eyeshadow.

Mulling over the past hour, Ash watched as the bus rolled to the next stop, a couple of young rabbits dancing on the sidewalk to an Elvis Presley Christmas tune, enjoying the newly fallen snow. Their reflections were colorful and whirling against the store's glass windows. She smiled to herself, imagining them running back to their homes, drinking hot chocolate, and waiting for Santa Claus, and hugging their parents and siblings and—

The smallest bit of sorrow washed over her again, as she saw the unsure eyes of Johnny in the back of her mind.

Ash had so many questions she wanted to ask him, yet couldn't bring herself to open her mouth for fear that she would cause him more hurt.

 _How many times do you get to see your dad? Are you always alone when you return from the theatre?_

Snorting, she realized that they were actually similar to one another then she would like to believe. Why hadn't she seen it before? Ash was now alone, as well, since Lance's departure. So why did she suddenly feel compelled to help, essentially, a stranger in a predicament?

 _Maybe, after all this time, I...I still can't save myself._ The thought made her uneasy, bringing on another stomach ache.

 _It's the holidays and I've already told mom I can't make it home this year. I guess this is my good deed for the season._

Ash cringed inwardly, wondering if 'good deed' now constituted her as a try-hard, something her mother would fuss about constantly. Half of her life had been a struggle to do what her mother considered right and, well, what Ash wanted to do. If only she could see her daughter now…

Pushing aside her own worries, she concluded that it was only the acceptable thing to do, by helping someone more in need.

So...who was going to get her back on her feet?

Humming the chorus of her own composition, 'Set It All Free,' to calm her nerves, Ash watched the festive windows of shops pass by until the sound of brakes rang through her ears again. The bus came to a squeaky stop. 22nd Street.

She really, _really_ didn't want to go to work. Work meant staying until late that evening, socialization, and...and overtime to get money for Johnny.

Unwrapping a piece of gum and popping it into her mouth, Ash rose confidently from her seat. Just four more days of a regular shift plus holiday hours, and Ash would be off to New York City. She just had to fight her drooping eyelids and weighted legs.

She waved goodbye to the driver, stepping under the red and gold lettered sign that read, 'RICKY RICARDO'S RECORDS.' Ash chuckled. Even if she was tired, she couldn't have been blessed with a better boss to be sleep deprived under.

Ash pushed open the door, greeting by the familiar smell of incense and lava lamps scattered across the cashier's counter. She passed under brightly painted red columns, which above held a vintage Hollywood cut-outs of the word 'soul.' Bulbous, 70s-themed lights shined blindly from overhead, as Ash tossed her purse under the counter, turning on the computer.

From the back of the store, she heard the sound of tumbling boxes, followed by a friendly, "Aye, Ash is back!" A few _thwomp thwomp thowmps_ and there stood her favorite boss in the whole wide world.

"Hey there, Ricky." The one and a half ton rhinoceros was sporting a pair of what looked like Janis Joplin shades. Amused, Ash watched him putter around the shop, failing to avoid banging into shelves of CDs and rows of LPs.

"How's my favorite rock-star," he grinned, retrieving some Led Zeppelin's that had been scattered on the floor. "Give me the deets."

"Same old, same old. Rehearsal is kicking my ass, though."

He raised his eyebrows from underneath the disheveled glasses, bustling over to the counter. Ricky attempted to perch himself above one of the bar stools and leaned over towards Ash, the wooden top sagging under his immense size. "You and me both, huh? I'll tell ya, Christmas always kicks my ass."

Ash snapped her gum, shuffling through her purse to quickly find her vibrating phone. One new email.

' _Subject: New York Trip Itinerary'_

She mentally made a note to ask Mr. Moon what expenses they would be covering for themselves. Well, in her case, for two animals.

Ash glanced back up at Ricky, who was still drawling on about the 'holiday rush.'

"Ricky," she interrupted. "You know I said I'd be working overtime this week, right?"

"Yeah, I remember." he sighed, tracing patterns with his hoof on the counter-top. "You're one tough cookie, Ash."

"Well this tough cookie is about to get even tougher. Consider me a full-time employee until the 29th."

* * *

 **Hello, and thank you all for your wonderful comments! I wasn't sure if I should stop here or not, but there are so many details I want to include in this story! I am a full-time art student balancing three art classes and 18 credit hours at the moment, so I apologize ahead of time if I don't update weekly/regularly. I'm hoping to update every Saturday, so please bear with me.**

 **Writing has always been a hobby of mine, but I am kind of writing this as I go. Again, thank you all for your kind words!**

 **Oh, and fun fact, there is an actual music store in San Francisco called 'Rooky Ricardo's Records.' It is very cute and was an amazing source of inspiration!**


	3. Chapter 3: Kairos

The faint sound of music was playing throughout the store when Ash awoke. A throbbing ache coursed through her temples as she cracked open one eye, the yellow walls of the record store blurring her vision. She tried to push herself up from the cashier's counter with her elbow, but felt lightheadedness take over. The song now clearly filled her clouded head:

 _I see the snowflakes coverin' the window sill  
I always get excited this time of year  
Santa Claus is coming with his nine reindeer_

 _Because Christmas is here._

Ash groaned, clutching the side of the counter. Her arms and hands felt clammy, and the corners of her cheeks were damp. Did she...did she have a nightmare?

 _Was I crying in my sleep?_

She could have thrown up. And she was ninety percent sure she had swallowed her gum.

Mustering all her strength to drag the mouse across the computer pad, the PC screen flickered to life. Wiping her eyes, she squinted in the bottom corner. 11.00 pm. The day had gone as quickly as she had arrived.

Business, as Ricky claimed, was usually more productive in the mornings and early afternoon before Ash arrived. Though she was manning the counter, no more than ten customers arrived to pick up last minute holiday gifts or to browse before heading home.

Assuming by now the shop was nearing closing time, Ash clicked the internet icon and pulled up her email, back at the message from Mr. Moon.

' _Subject: New York Itinerary_

' _Day 1: Depart from SFO at 6.00. Arrive at LGA at approx. 11.30. Pick up passes. Decide on two events for the day. Check-in at hotel begins at 3.00._

' _Day 2: School of Rock performance at 2.00. One event before. Eat out after performance.'_

Scanning the list of events, Ash couldn't help but notice the Moon Theatre crew would be staying until new year's day. A low suspicion crept into her mind, wondering if the others agreed to this decision. Personally, Ash didn't mind being away from home during the holidays...but what about the rest of the crew?

Closing out of her inbox, she began to mentally tally up the coverage of her expenses for next week.

 _Let's see...suppose we eat out once or twice a day...and then there's the cost of souvenirs…_

 _Ugh._

She closed her eyes, feeling her legs wobble underneath her. Try as she might, it was becoming harder to feel anything remotely close to excitement about the New York trip.

In fact, the dull soreness in her head and lower abdomen was making it difficult for her to feel anything else.

 _It must be because I forgot to eat dinner. That's all._

Clenching her teeth, she tried to ignore her symptoms, clicking a pen and scrawling a quick list of amenities that she would be saving up for.

 _Meals...clothes...gifts..meals...clothes…_

The pen clattered out of her hand as the familiar heavy thud of footsteps resonated throughout the store.

"Ash, I'm 'bout to head out. You okay with locking up?"

She barely heard him. "Yeah...yeah sure, Ricky." He spun a scarf over his thick shoulders, waddling towards the entrance as he struggled to squeeze on his galoshes.

Ash watched the eccentric rhinoceros squeeze through the front door, leaving her with a, "Ta-ta!"

A quietness swept over the store, and Ash felt her shoulders unlax. Possibly from the weight of her stomach cramping, but mainly, she reassured herself, from the fact that Ricky had been "A-okay" with the news of her departure the following week. In fact, the store would be closed during and after New Years, as Ricky was traveling to visit family, something else he sought in complaining about.

 _Some things never change..._

Shutting down the computer, Ash, with great difficulty, bent down to retrieve her purse.

She gasped, falling to her knees. A stabbing pain had shot through her head, pulsing throughout the base of her neck. Within a matter of seconds she saw the dark images and the incoherent slurring of words that had intruded her nap just moments ago.

' _Babe, you're worthless, doing something like this. It's no wonder I cheated_ _on you.'_

Ash clutched her temples, as if it would force the voice of Lance out, but the malicious ringing continued.

' _You are_ nothing _without me, and you never will be.'_

She couldn't tell what was part of the dream, and what was drawn out from a painstakingly, horrid memory.

Feeling around blindly for her purse, Ash bolted for the front door, crashing into the wall. Her face was burning up, a trickle of sweat running down her face. She clutched the wooden panels, stretching her arm out until she caught the handle of her guitar case.

Stumbling outside, she hurriedly flipped the store sign and locked the door with a _click._

Her only challenge now was getting home.

 _What...what is happening..?_

Ash all but stumbled to the bus stop, her unsteady feet crunching over the snow.

Her cell (how was it still on 46% battery?) vibrated. She wrestled with her purse zipper, finding the name 'Meena' on the caller ID. Hand shaking, she answered. "H-hello?"

"Hi Ash! I'm sorry to call you so late, but did you, um...did you happen to see the email Mr. Moon sent out?"

"Oh, yeah." She saw the sign in her field of vision, a beacon of hope. "What about—" It happened before she could bite her tongue. Ash's boot heel caught in one of the straps of the guitar case, and she toppled forward.

She felt her quills turn to ice as she laid in a crumpled heap.

The agony that spread through her body was like fire licking from her heels to her fingertips, and she let out a whimper among the hollow streets. She could hear Meena on the other line, the buzzing of her shrill voice piercing Ash's ears. "Ash? Are you okay? Can you hear me? Ash?"

She felt as if she were underwater. All around her were bleary streetlights, Meena's drowning pleas of concern dampened by the slowing of time.

Succumbing to her fatigue and blazing fever, Ash felt her eyes flutter to a close.

The last thing she saw was a pair of bright lights from around the corner, dancing like fireflies against the hazy winter sky.

* * *

Johnny sat outside in the San Quentin State Prison parking lot, fumbling for a pack of cigarettes. He didn't want to smoke. In fact, he had tried quitting on more than one occasion, but each time only seemed to end up with him adding another pack to his weekly regime.

If not for his job at his father's auto shop, there was no way he could afford them.

Breathing out a puff of smoke into the cold air, he felt his shoulders relax slightly. He expected to have nerves of steel, as much as he spent in visiting hours.

Yet each time he felt his hands shake at the sight of the wardens, their faces seemingly always upturned in a sneer and their forearms rippling through their uniforms.

The young gorilla had arrived, as always, a half an hour early of his visitation time. Pitching the butt away, he pushed open the glass doors of the sturdy building, reminding himself to breathe deeply.

Johnny approached the front desk, shakily filling out the application form. After confirmation, he stood in line, awaiting the double doors to where his father would be waiting for him.

Wringing his hands, Johnny was hit with the realization that this would be the second and final visitation of this month. He felt as though the past day had lasted more than a week, and the emotions that went with it were just as taxing.

' _One week from today you will all be setting sail for the Big Apple!'_ The words of Mr. Moon echoed throughout his head.

So. New York City.

He still couldn't wrap his head around it. Christmas was less than one week away, and soon after he would be standing in the middle of Times Square.

And, potentially, he wouldn't have to pay a cent.

The mountain gorilla felt his mouth form into a crooked smile, as he shuffled his converses forward within the moving line.

 _Paying for my expenses. She must be bloody joking._

Then, a sudden fear overcame him. Was she...was she actually going to go through with her proposition? Knowing Ash, her punk-rocker ego easily made her one of the most stubborn of the crew. Was she honestly considering going to great lengths on his behalf?

Johnny leaned against the cement walls, the drafty bricks sending shockwaves through his fingers. His mind was racing of unanswered questions.

 _Why did she want me to go? I...I feel like we barely know one another and yet…_

And yet he recognized the same look on her face when he told her he couldn't go, the same lonesomeness reflecting back at him. The look of empathy when she put the pieces of his dilemma together.

And she had been _crying,_ he knew it. So clearly something was eating her from the inside as well.

Lost in thought, Johnny didn't realize that he was next in line. The double doors opened, revealing the most masculine flamingo he had even seen. Even her voice was deep and brusque.

"Johnny Bishop to see Mr. Samuel Bishop."

His heart pounded in his ear and he did his best to ignore the stares of those behind him, following the warden across the cement floor. Entering the spacious room, Johnny spotted the empty stool before the warden ushered him towards the last booth.

As soon as he felt himself sit down, he found himself staring across the glass barrier at a pair of blue eyes. And he knew that, even if it was just for a while, that he could leave all his unrest behind.

"Hullo, son"

"Hi, Dad. Happy Christmas."

Sam chuckled. "Your uncles have had the telly on, non-stop." He gestured with his head back towards their cell. Johnny could vaguely make out George Michael belting out 'Last Christmas.'

"At least you have a telly."

His father rolled his eyes. "Spare me a few more days; I'm gonna conk one of them out by Sunday." He clasped both of his large hands together.

"So, how have you been lately? Holding up the shop well?"

Johnny shifted his eyes from the glass to the brick walls, picking off a stray piece of grout. "Yeah...everything is fine. I've been working at the Moon Theatre, too."

Johnny always liked the way his father's eyes crinkled at the sides when he smiled, like he did now. A sad one, but a smile nonetheless.

"I still can't believe how I missed out on your talent." Sam pressed a hand at the bottom corner of the glass barrier, barely smudging it with his knuckles. "I'm sorry, son. I'm sorry I failed you."

Johnny blinked back tears, finding it hard to swallow. "No, dad, I understand. You wanted what was best for us."

"But not in this way."

There was a brief silence before the sound of _tip-tap, tip tip-tap_ filled the air. Samuel watched as his son lightly rapped his fingers against the orange tabletop. The gesture was all too familiar. Sitting before him was his ten year-old boy, sulking at the piano, hands clacking against the wood of the bench.

A gesture of dismay.

He continued to watch his son, before slowly asking,

"Something on your mind?"

Johnny flinched, knowing he couldn't hide it. Especially from his father.

 _Please don't get too mad._

"I...I was offered an opportunity. A...a big opportunity."

Sam's eyes widened. "Not...you're not a _pusher_ are you?"

Johnny flushed. "What? No, the Moon Theatre is going to New York City this week!" He faded off, carefully studying his father's reaction. "And...and I was invited to go along." he finished meekly.

A sudden bang of Sam's fist on the prison table made him jump. His father had a large smile plastered to his face, revealing sharp canines. "That's chuffin' _fantastic,_ son!"

"R-really? You're not upset?"

"Upset? Why would I be upset?"

Johnny fidgeted nervously in his seat, becoming interested in a squashed gnat on the floor. "I thought," he muttered. "You would be disappointed in me because I would be leaving you...during Christmas."

His father's eyes filled with dejection, his hand tightening around the phone. "Johnny, I've been holding you back for so long. You will never understand how I feel about this. So don't...don't throw away this once in a lifetime chance." He twirled the cord between his thick fingers, laughing softly to himself. "Can't believe how grown up you have become."

 _Just like mum,_ Johnny wanted to say, but thought otherwise.

Feeling his confidence rise, he continued. "Cheers, dad. But you're not gonna believe this; Mr. Moon is paying for the trip."

 _Tell him. Tell him so he won't worry._

"And...and someone has offered to cover the rest of my expenses. You know, food and the works."

"Offered?" his father guffawed. "You must be in their good graces then."

"No, no, she—"

" _She?"_

Johnny felt his ears turn warm, wondering why it was becoming more and more of a struggle. How complicated was the situation, exactly?

Sam never let his son finish. "You know what? I think you've got this one in the bag, son. Just do what you think is right." He winked. "But, for the record, she sounds like a keeper."

Johnny began to wonder if the thermostat on the wall was being tempered with; the heat in his body, at least in his face, was steadily rising. He tried to protest against his father, only to elicit another round of bold laughter.

Of course, the young gorilla had many interested suitors in the past, not that he paid attention. Normally he was to preoccupied with the 'family business.'

 _He thinks Ash and I...are together? As if. What a...what a ruddy wisecrack._

He pushed the thought out of his mind, savoring his last day of the year he would spend time with his father.

The two continued to talk through what remained left of their hour together. By the time Johnny bid his father (who yelled, "Take lots of pictures!" across ward) and uncles another 'Happy Christmas,' it was dark outside.

He slumped into his father's truck, breathing a sigh, feeling as though a large weight had been taken off from his chest.

 _New York. I'm actually going to New York City._

He let out a resounding, "Yes!" fist pumping the air, and quickly turning to see if anyone had seen. Johnny turned on the engine, and watched as the night sky trail behind him in the rear-view mirror, a blanket of darkness and hazy stars.

He turned the radio up, speeding home in a mixed sensation of jubilee and relief as bass line of the Christmas station thudded along, though he was too animated to comprehend what song was on.

A sudden vibration of his phone made Johnny slow down. Curiously opening the phone, he glanced at the truck's digital clock. It was just past eleven. Who was calling him this late?

A shaky voice sounded from the other line.

"Johnny, it's Meena."

"Oh, hi Meena." He could hear the elephant's uneven breathing. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but, deep down, he knew something was already terribly wrong. "I...is something wrong?"

"U-um, I don't know. I was talking to Ash over the p-phone, about the New York trip, you know, and...a-and…"

 _Ash?_

"...and?"

"It sounded like she dropped her phone, o-or fell down...I don't know!" Meena wailed. "She wouldn't respond and...I-I think something happened to her!"

Johnny wracked his brain; he hadn't seen the porcupine since earlier that evening, when she had left for work. But he had no idea where that would be in the first place.

He skidded an icy corner, clamping on the phone with the side of his cheek. "I...I'm not sure what I can do, Meena."

Johnny clenched his teeth, straightening the wheel before driving through downtown. The street signs looked more familiar to him now, assuming he was only ten minutes away from the garage.

"Look, I'll keep an eye out. We could phone the police even."

"O-okay." Meena blubbered.

"Do you know where she works?"

As Johnny rounded the next corner, time seemed to stop.

He didn't hear what Meena said. He didn't hear the squealing of tires as he slammed on the brakes.

All he saw, in that moment, in the pale light of the street lamp, was a tousled guitar case jutting out from the sidewalk.

And there lying next to it, covered in snow, was Ash.

"Meena, I'm gonna have to call you back."

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I do not own 'Christmas is Here' by Buckcherry. Thank you all again for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4: Syncope

Heavy lidded, blue eyes opened underneath an engulfing poster of The Who that was taped sloppily upside the slanted ceiling. Ash groaned, feeling the heavy warmth of blankets that surrounded her. Reaching up, she cleared the sleep from her eyes, her arms feeling like lead and damp from a cold sweat.

At once, she felt her heart drop into her stomach with realization.

 _This isn't my house._

The porcupine went to throw the covers off, but was met with a stabbing pain in her temples. She hissed, feeling the crunch of some deserted quills as she fell back against the pillows. She silently debated on whether or not to call the police, but a different voice reassured her that this was no kidnapping.

Trying to ignore the dull ache in her forehead, Ash tried to recollect her thoughts over the past, judging by the sunlight streaming into the small bedroom, twelve hours, had it been?

 _How long was I out?_

Ash recalled the faint glimmer of streetlights as she made her way about the sidewalks the previous night. But up until now, she felt like she had been submerged in an endless pool of darkness. She had only assumed it had been a long, surprisingly dreamless night, though the unknown bed told her that was not the case.

She continued to survey the bedroom, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu. Ash knew for a fact she had never stepped a foot inside this house. Yet, why did the cluttered desk next to the twin bed and smooth, wooden floors give her the impression of...a certain down-to-earthness?

Reminding herself not to become too comfortable, Ash pulled the green covers down over her chest, peering around for her phone.

She froze at the sound of footsteps, the creaking of floorboards filling the empty house.

Ash hovered her head in mid-panic, deliberating if she should pretend to be asleep. But the thumping of her heart and twisting of her stomach only made her more alert.

She saw his brown eyes before he spotted her.

He was carrying a bowl of, something steaming, soup possibly? And a mug.

Approaching the door with such timidness that would shame mouse—or...maybe Meena in their case—Johnny knocked slowly against the back of the door.

Ash felt her breath hitch in her throat.

"Ash," he whispered. "Are you...are you awake?" Not earning a response, he peeked the side of his face around the corner.

He nearly dropped the dishware at the sight of her widened eyes. She watched him duck out, feeling a smirk form on her face.

 _For someone that brought an entire amphitheatre to their feet, he sure carries himself humbly._

Not thinking, Ash called out,

"I didn't know you liked The Who."

 _There's a lot I don't know, anymore._

She watched as a hand slowly, hesitantly, wrapped itself around the cracked door, pushing forward to reveal the tall gorilla. His tuft of hair barely grazed the top of the frame. Ash amusingly noted he was still wearing pajama bottoms below a jumper.

"Y-yeah." confirmed Johnny, gradually slipping into the room. "They're from where I was born."

He carefully pulled the desk chair up for himself, placing the bowl and mug on top of what looked like crumpled sheet music over the desk. He glanced over at the perplexed look on Ash's face.

"...from west London." Johnny remarked.

Ash contemplated the bedsheets, running her hands through the soft fabrics as she slowly propped herself up against the pillows, cushioned between the wall. She would never admit this to anyone, but they smelled like Johnny, like denims and fresh linens; it was, for her, what home was suppose to smell like.

 _But not my home._

"I don't understand." Ash wondered allowed.

She glimpsed up at the young gorilla to find his eyebrows pulled together, his hand busy fiddling with a loose desk knob. "Oh, umm, i-it's the capital of England..?"

She tried not to smile. "No, not that."

"...right." A light shade of pink blossomed over his ears. Wordlessly, he handed her the green mug, earning a soft 'thanks' from the porcupine before she continued.

"I mean, what happened? Why did you take me... _here?"_ She waved an arm around, gesturing at modest room.

Johnny stopped spinning the drawer handle, overlooking Ash with slight...was that disappointment?

"I-I'm sorry," he apologized, his voice raw with the morning. " I can always take you back home—"

"NO!"

There was a long pause at Ash's outburst. She clutched the sheets with shaking hands, her stomach churning.

 _I don't want to go back home. Not again._

"I-I mean...I'm sorry."

She took a sip of her tea, steadying her breath. Huh, she didn't think she liked green tea.

Ash caught Johnny staring at her with uneasiness, his eyebrows creasing once more. The young porcupine sighed, resting the mug on top of her knees, wrapped up in bedsheets. The heated porcelain spread a soothing warmth throughout her legs.

"Thanks, Johnny."

The young gorilla smiled softly, peering over the sunlit window to where snow sparkled over the ice-coated cement.

"No problem."

The two sat comfortably in the silence. Ash followed his line of sight, taking another drink from the mug. It was a beautiful morning, with icicles hanging below the garage roof and melting ice dripping above from the crystallized tree branches. Though she was a night owl herself, Ash had always loved finding herself waking up early. On days like this she could get lost in the wonder of the world, gazing endlessly into the outdoors.

She could have stayed there for hours.

"Syncope," said Johnny, breaking her trance. "You know...passing out. I looked it up."

Ash found her eyes watching the ripples of the tea, lapping against the sides of the mug as she lowered her legs against the soft fabrics. She grasped the handle as if to steady herself, feeling a rush of drowsiness. It was a sickly memory that lodged itself in the back of her head of the night before.

"I was tired." she said lamely. She would be damned if she brought up the other doubts that plagued her mind.

 _But it is better to talk it out_ , the voice of her father had once said. _Than to walk it out._

"I guess hard work will do that to you." She tried to finish it off with a forged giggle.

Johnny eyed her with skepticism. "You were running a blazin' fever when I found you."

Ash watched as he tapped his fingers up against the side of the desk, fully recognizing the motion. Actually, she couldn't recollect having a temperature.

A large hand suddenly appeared, hovering in front of her face. Johnny's arm quivered before her, and he pulled back slightly, his fingers twitching.

"...m-may I?" he asked.

 _Lance never asked to touch me_.

Nodding, Ash felt the coolness of the tips of Johnny's fingers rest delicately above her brow. The dull heat from the mug and gentle touch of the gorilla's hand dispersed throughout every atom in her body, and she felt herself sigh with the calmness flooding over herself.

She wondered, in a bizarre sort of way, if the two had ever made contact like this before.

It had been so long since she had been regarded like this. Lance was always occupied with getting notes down on a paper that any intimacy the two had shared—if one was to call it that—was washed away by his narrow-mindedness and obsession to undermine her on stage.

A blush crept into her cheeks upon another realization, as Johnny soon removed his hand from her forehead.

 _He...he must have carried me to his truck._

"Hmm, not sure if it's quite down yet. But I think it's progress."

A hushed pause followed as Johnny turned back to the desk. By now Ash had nearly finished her tea, taking a final bitter sip before she found herself watching the modest gorilla.

"I saw my dad yesterday," He filled the deafening quietness. Ash wondered if he felt awkward with him, sitting here watching her lie on top of, what she presumed, was his bed.

But she wanted to _say something._ Ash, the porcupine who had learned the term 'freedom of speech' in the first grade and who didn't take crap from anyone (especially her brothers), had found herself tongue-tied.

And it was merely because of a gorilla sitting across from her?

And then, of all things, he had brought up his family. The guilt that festered within her the before felt like a bad taste in her mouth, but she couldn't get rid of it. Why did it have to be this way?

She opened and closed her lips, trying to gather her saddened thoughts, when Johnny shattered her introspection yet again.

"You...you don't have to pay for me Ash." he said quietly. "I appreciate your kindness, but...I haven't exactly done anything to earn it from you."

"That's not true," she sniffed. "God only knows what would've happened if you didn't find me." She winced internally, picturing her frail self being lifted off of the sidewalk by Johnny. Carried into Johnny's home by Johnny.

Being placed into Johnny's bed by Johnny.

 _Get a grip, Ash._

"That's what friends do."

"We're friends?" she blurted without thinking. It felt nice to say that out loud. In a...newfangled sort of way.

A friend.

The sound of laughter filled her ears as Johnny hunched over the desk chair. For someone that lived all alone, Johnny was by far much more cheerful than she seemed. At least, on the outside.

"I guess we don't have to be, if you don't want to." he chuckled, pushing the bowl of soup forward. "Here, you must be hungry."

She hadn't seen eaten since before work. Thinking back to the shop made her feel like a part of her had become missing, left back on the streets of downtown. So many hours of ringing up customers and organizing albums she had devoted herself too; when she wasn't writing music or rehearsing, it was always back to the grind.

Lazing about made her feel extremely unproductive. Especially now that she had another reason to work.

"Johnny, I...I made a promise to you." Okay, it wasn't directly a promise, but she was not about to break her word. She traded him for the bowl of soup, the smell of diced vegetables wafting under her nose.

"As soon as I finish this soup, I'll leave for work." Also another partial lie; she was going to need to stop by the apartment for a change of attire. The prospect made her queasy.

Johnny squirmed in his chair, tugging at the drawstring of his hooded sweater.

"About that...Meena gave me the number to the store, a-and I called in for you." He gulped, watching her for any sign of disapproval. "Mr. Ricky said it wasn't a big deal and...and hopes you feel better soon."

Ash resisted laughing at the coined, 'Mr. Ricky.' A part of her wanted to yell at Johnny, bewildered by his extraordinary habit for kindness; if this was friendship, she certainly had yet to play her part. Yet she couldn't argue with Ricky. Once his foot was down, well, it might as well be stuck in the floorboards.

She swore to herself that she would return first thing in the morning.

"I'm not upset," Ash reassured him. "I'm just...restless." She wanted to smack herself, it sounded so asinine.

Johnny shrugged. "I get it. Can't believe New York is just around the corner."

"Yeah...around the corner." she echoed.

After finishing, or less or more inhaling, the lukewarm soup, Johnny contended that Ash remain at the garage and rest. He had received little to no medical experience, and was afraid she would keel over if she attempted to leave for her apartment.

He left the door cracked opened and Ash listened to the fading of his tip-toeing.

She smiled to her, rolling over onto her back. For the first time in what seemed like a long time, she forgot about her apartment. She forgot about Lance.

All that filled her head were the bokeh lights of taxi cabs and glittering screens that filled 59th Street.

And not a single nightmare was to be found.

* * *

 **I apologize if this chapter seemed shorter...I kind of rushed; these next couple weeks are very busy for me! But I hope you all enjoyed it (kind of fluffier than I expected). But thank you! I love reading all your wonderful reviews!**


	5. Author's Note

Hello readers!

I appreciate all of your wonderful comments and reviews of this story. Unfortunately, I will not be updating for a while (I know, it's already been a while) due to my hectic school/work/life in general schedule. My mental health has also taken a toll on me, so I am also trying to improve myself in that area.

My goal is to write the entire story or the majority of it before continuing to post, as I feel even more pressured when I have nothing written after publishing a latest chapter. I hope you all understand, and please be patient as to the (hopeful) continuation of this story.

Thank you.

With love,

hedgehogger x


	6. Chapter 5: Coruscate

Johnny was right.

The next few days flew by and, before she knew it, Ash was waking up to a snowy Christmas day. She found herself watching the flakes fall like soft cotton from her window, before her alarm went off, an obnoxious reminder of yet another day of meaningless busy work.

The young porcupine ran downstairs, treating herself to two bowls of Fruity Pebbles. Eating as quickly as she could shovel cereal into her mouth, Ash wiped her face with the sleeve of her jean jacket, scampering over to the foyer. Each morning had become a sort of challenge: how fast she could escape from her apartment and long long she could stay out.

Ash had convinced herself that, if it weren't for the incessant early hours, she would probably live in the Moon Theatre. She wagered that Mr. Moon probably frequented his office in the early hours of the morning, as well.

 _Typical hard workers. We live and breathe it._

If it was one thing she could hold in self-confidence, Ash could never deny her diligence.

As she pondered this while sitting under the bus stop, her cell phone let off a short _blip_.

Wincing, she unlocked the screen, knowing exactly who it was.

' _Happy Xmas, Ash! How r u feeling today?'_

She stared at the text, wondering, in fact, how she did feel. It certainly did not feel like Christmas to her. The streets were empty, a quiet wind rustling between the roads. She was also the only one waiting for the bus. Ash soon found herself gazing into a pair of green headlights, as the squeaky bus came to a ragged stop.

Finding a seat in the very back, Ash noticed another text had followed the former, an indecipherable conjunction of, ' _rifindsososjdhrjdoforoensqj djfospandbnf.'_

She stifled a giggle, wondering if a certain, small twenty-five culprits had something to do with it.

' _Merry Christmas. I'm doing fine, off to work.'_ she responded back to Rosita.

She sighed, her breath fogging up the glass window. Ever since she had lost conscious that night, word had mysteriously gotten around to the crew. She had received a plethora of calls—three from Mr. Moon—all expressing their concern and condolences, much to her annoyance.

Those that remained on the more perturbed side, however, kept in contact with Ash. Daily contact. Mostly from Meena and Rosita, but especially Rosita.

She searched through her phone contacts, ignoring another notification from Rosita. No doubt she would be wondering why Ash was working on Christmas.

Ash soon found the name she was, subconsciously, looking for under the 'J's' and clicked on his profile.

 _0 messages._

She didn't know what to do. Was she supposed to do anything? The two hadn't spoken since the past week. And yet she couldn't tear her eyes from the small screen, beckoning her to at least type a greeting. It felt like an obligation in itself.

Her fingers shaking slightly, she began composing their first message, watching snow fall lazily from the morning sky against the reflection of the phone.

 _Hey, Merry Xmas. Hope you are okay. See you Thurs._

It was only until she reached Ricky Ricardo's when her phone vibrated against the leather of her purse.

 _Cheers, Ash. Happy Christmas x._

She wished the driver a Merry Christmas, stepping off of the bus with a smile tugging at her lips. Suddenly the prospect of manning the store didn't seem so bad.

* * *

Ash had lodged her earbuds in for nearly six hours; not one customer had shown up. Hell, Ricky hadn't even bothered coming in ("I totally know you can handle this, rockstar! I'll save you some yule log!").

She sighed, pushing the anticipation of soon getting back on the bus out of her head.

 _Less than fours more days._ Her head wandered, and she found herself glimpsing outside at the drifting snow, weaving between the sidewalks and cobblestone walls. A faint orange aura flickered above the glass, a dancing light against the frosted glass.

Ash sighed, twisting the cord around her fingers. It was the most wonderful time of the year...and all she could think about was taking a long-needed nap. She fished for her phone from her purse, lazily scrolling through the copious holiday messages. For some odd reason she found herself staring at Johnny's name.

 _2 messages._

Warm, sturdy fingers crept into her mind, his hand calming against her busy head. Ash flushed, ducking as if someone would barge into the shop and see her daydreaming like a pubescent middle-schooler.

 _Why the hell can't I stop thinking about that?_

She almost felt angry with herself, allowing her thoughts to become fixated and repetitive.

 _First...first Lance. And then my apartment. And now..?_

A sudden yelp from outside the record store startled Ash so badly she nearly smacked her head against the wooden counter. Several quills had also lodged themselves into the back of the stand.

"Alright, alright," she heard an irritated, familiar voice. "But don't come crying to me if you drop the pudding."

Ash stumbled around towards the edge of the counter, now very clearly making out the silhouettes shuffling together among sidewalks.

"What if she's gone?" Meena's voice was barely audible.

"No, she should still be here. I texted her a few hours ago." confirmed Rosita.

Ash couldn't believe her ears, tip-toeing closer to the door. What were they all doing here? She glanced up at the clock, wondering what she was still doing there herself. It was nearly eight o'clock.

Hesitating, she reached out to grasp the handle, but was met with a _ding!_ as the front door swung open to reveal a pair of seven eyes.

"Three, two, one...Merry Christmas, Ash!" Mr. Moon lead, with a chorus of cheers from the theatre crew. The flabbergasted porcupine stood (more or less leaned) in the doorway, shifting her eyes around to her friends' wide smiles and arms of colorful foods. She found herself meeting Johnny's eyes as he offered her a soft smile, a bowl of what looked like stuffing balancing against his arm and hip.

Ash could have melted on queue.

"I...I…"

"Vell, aren't you going to be inviting us inside?" Gunther stated bluntly tugging his glittering red sweater over his rounded belly. He received an elbow to the side from Rosita before the mother pig scooped Ash up into her arms. She smelled like grease and peppermint.

"Oh, it's so good to see you're doing better!" she squealed, inspecting Ash's face as if she had just been diagnosed with a terminal disease.

She tugged against Rosita's grasp, wriggling free so she wouldn't prick her with her quills. Eyes wide, she watched as everyone hoisted their platters of colorful foods into Ricky Ricardo's Records.

The smell that wafted through the shop made Ash's stomach churn, a sickly mnemonic that she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. There were piles of sticky toffee pudding with raspberry syrup. Rows of spinach and sweet potato wraps filed along the countertop, surrounded by bowls of stuffing and fruit pies. And to the end of the banquet lied a drizzled apricot cake with a massive wine cooler to the right of it, shimmering against the light of the glass windows.

Ash continued to gape as the Moon Theatre crew shuffled about the store, as if they had worked there their whole life. Mike found the power outlet behind the cashier's desk, smirking as he plugged it into the wall. The store was no sooner bright with the hues of deep oranges and reds.

Silverware was dished out around what little seating was offered, Rosita and Meena already serving up platefuls of foods. Mr. Moon even took it upon himself to locate an LP, clicking it into the store's record player between two oversized lava lamps.

"Hope you don't mind us dropping by, Ash." He winked. "But we didn't want you to miss out on all the holiday festivities." He adjusted his infamous bowtie before sliding across the wooden floors, his small feet tapping to the beat of the music.

 _The mood is right_

 _The spirits up_

 _We're here tonight_

 _And that's enough_

 _Simply having a wonderful Christmas time_

 _Simply having a wonderful Christmas time_

Ash couldn't help but laugh, finding a spot in one of the booths between Meena and Rosita. "I still can't believe this," she beamed, helping herself to a scoop of toffee pudding. "How did you all come up with this?"

Rosita exchanged looks with Meena, both of them glancing back at Ash as if she hadn't been let in on a secret. Rosita suddenly let out a snort, grinning to herself. "I wish I could take all this credit...but only the leftover sandwiches are mine."

"Yeah, Ash," piped up the Indian elephant, twiddling with one of her hair bands. "Johnny is the one who asked us to come here."

Ash felt her face flushed, twisting her upper body so she could catch a glimpse at the young gorilla, who was locked in an, albeit, lengthy conversation with Gunter. His eyes, though they held the utter expression of boredom, reflected the vibrant colors from the above ceiling lights. He shifted from one knee to another, moving his eyes around the room briefly before spotting Ash. Johnny gave her one of his dubbed-toothless smiles, waving.

She smiled back slightly, slumping back around into her seat.

 _Wow, it's hot as hell in here._

She piled on more pudding, avoiding eye contact with the two sitting in front of her.

"Was I...was I not supposed to mention that part?" she heard Meena whisper to Rosita.

"No...now Ash knows who to thank for this party." The mockery was practically dripping from Rosita's lips, and Ash sensed a smirk growing on the pig's face. She didn't say a word, sighing when she felt the two leave to return to the buffet.

Sometimes it was hard for her to relate to Rosita (okay, it was hard to relate to a majority of people, especially if they didn't listen to hard rock). She felt sometimes the mother pig was stuck in, what did they call it, high school days? Either that, or she found an interest living vicariously through Ash.

Including being the first to know about her 'romantic endeavours.'

Ash scoffed, spooning more treacly, sugary toffee into her mouth. The taste made her brain feel electrified, her stomach squirming under the weight of the sickly pudding. She swallowed bite by bite, trying to dislodge any undertones that might ruin this so-called Christmas party.

 _Like I'll be finding love after what happened...what happened_ then. _That probably wasn't even love._

She swiped a helping of stuffing from an abandoned plate across the table, deciding, as she finished her largely portioned meal, that this was what love what taste like if said emotion had a flavor.

The rest of the evening become a blur of dancing, singing, and—of course—eating more food, including a half a glass of champagne that Rosita allowed her to steal ("I have twenty five kids at home," she had giggled and hiccupped at the same time. "So someone's gotta help me get through this bottle!").

Ash hadn't eaten this much since Lance had accidentally ordered twenty pizzas instead of two.

A wave of melancholy washed over her at this thought, though thankfully a rendition of the Trans Siberian Orchestra's _Christmas Eve/Sarajevo 12/24_ blasted over the record store and she no sooner found herself linking arms with Meena and Mr. Moon, thrashing her head to the meticulous strumming of the guitar.

Nearly three hours had gone by, and Ash all but tripped into the booth she had taken earlier. She propped her head up with her gloved hands, onlooking the Moon Theatre performers with tired eyes.

She probably would have fallen asleep if a certain crew member hadn't taken a seat, in utmost quietness she might add, across from her. Ash rubbed her eyes, staring back at Johnny.

"J-johnny!" she stammered, cursing herself. If he was 'just another crew member,' why did she suddenly feel nervous? "H-hi. I didn't see you there."

"Hi, Ash," He offered an innocent grin, glancing from behind from where her eyes were fixated. "Some party tonight, huh?"

If this was considered small talk, Ash wasn't one for formalities.

Her heart dropped when she realized that, yes, he had been the one to organize this. The one who had declined her expensive offer, who had saved her from the cold, harsh night and nursed her back to consciousness.

It was the first time someone had gone out of their way for her. Or, in Johnny's case, the second time.

Score two for the gorilla.

"I-I...wanted to thank you," she muttered, "For tonight. For everything. I really appreciate it."

Feeling vulnerable under his gaze, she felt an impulsive, almost defensive retort in the back of her mind, and she opened her mouth before she had time to rationalize it if would be the most fitting thing to say.

"Keep in mind," she simpered. "That you're not the only one keeping tabs. These holiday hours are finally paying off. Literally." She arched her eyebrows, hoping he would catch her drift.

For some reason, she found herself taking joy in the fact that his ears were turning red, and it took a few silent seconds for the gorilla to regain his composure.

"Well...ah, I've already said it once, Ash." He scratched the back of his neck. "I'm really not bothered."

"No, what's done is done," she deadpanned, wondering if this would become a newly discovered mantra. Ash glanced down casually at one of her hands, examining, as casually as she could, her crooked nails.

"Besides, I wasn't even going to mention it again. I was just going to patiently wait until Thursday to drop a memo." _It's the alcohol talking. It's just the alcohol._

In a way, Ash felt like she had stepped over an invisible line, intruding somehow into Johnny's comfort zone.

But instead, she found him, in all his reticence, blushing even more across his cheeks. Ash found herself gawking at his face, secretly wondering what other miniscule phrases could make him turn crimson.

"But...b-but I…" His infamous talent of stringing words together brought Ash out of her tasteless thoughts. She was positive her face was radiating, as well, and she scanned the store for a water cooler.

"...I didn't want to see you Thursday." He smiled shyly. "T-that is, I figured you would need some company tonight, you know, since you're such a hard worker."

 _Damn, he says the most reckless things._

Ash felt herself turn red, if it were any more possible, forcing herself to let out a bark of laughter. Her voice was raw from not speaking all day.

"Whatever, Johnny. Stop trying to out-nice me."

Johnny let out a burst of laughter, catching Ash off-guard once more. The sound of his hilarity rang throughout her ears. She grinned alongside him, crossing her arms in a playful manner.

 _Oh God, we're not...I'm not flirting with him, am I?_

"I'm serious, Ash." chuckled the young gorilla, his eyes still crinkled from her apparent sense of humor. "One of these days you'll work yourself to death."

"Hey, I've only got three more days," she held up her hands, reassuringly. "Then I'll take a break. In the hustle and bustle of the Big Apple."

The two continued to laugh and finished off the rest of the sticky toffee pudding, Johnny's teeth at one point sticking together, rendering him unable to speak for nearly ten minutes. Ash doubled over, tears brimming at the ends of her eyes as she couldn't help but laugh at the gorilla before her, who struggled against his own jaw.

At a quarter to midnight, the Moon Theatre crew had successfully listened to 65 songs and downed all of the scrumptious foods. Gunter was swigging the rest of the champagne bottle around, leaning against Rosita as he finished the contents.

Ash bid them all goodnight and many more thank yous as they stumbled through the door of the record shop.

She couldn't help but linger on Johnny, who hadn't stopped smiling since their encounter at the booth.

He tripped over the door frame, receiving a sharp push from Mike at the seam of his jeans.

"Alright, loverboy, get your feet sorted out. The missus is expecting me."

He weaved between Johnny's converse, and Ash could hear the two bickering over the connotation of the word 'loverboy.' She smiled, waving out into the quiet night before turning to enter the shop.

If she had stayed any longer, she might have missed the just noticeable photograph, blowing down the sidewalk out of her peripheral vision.

* * *

 **(I do not own 'Wonderful Christmas Time,' Sir Paul McCartney does). Hello, readers! It's been a while, hasn't it? Thank you all for the support and messages; it's so nice to hear all of your kind comments. Hard to believe it's summer. I'd love to continue with this story, though I am also balancing this alongside two jobs, online classes, and art commissions, so it may be a bumpy ride. But thank you all again!**


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